The Reason Why
by Tyloric
Summary: Hansel has a lot of reasons for doing what he does. This is the most important one. (Or the one where Hansel just really likes kids).


**_Note:_** _Originally posted on Archive of Our Own. I've decided to start porting over some of my more popular stories._

Here's the thing; Hansel likes kids, he really does. Kids are the best. Their love is uncensored, they have no trouble calling attention any elephants in the room that adults pointedly ignore, it's painfully obvious when they lie, and the best part is when they laugh or smile.

One thing he could do without, however, is the tears.

The blond girl he was cradling in his arms could be no more than nine years old and was cold, terrified, and utterly miserable. She had been taken by a witch who lurked in a swamp just as the sun had begun to set the previous evening. God only knows what the witch had had planned for her, but it didn't matter now; the bitch didn't have a head anymore. Or arms, for that matter.

Hansel had stripped her of everything but her undergarments-the girls clothes had been soaked and in tatters-and wrapped her in the blanket he kept in his pack.

She whimpered against his chest weakly.

"Don't worry kid, I got you. You're safe," he tried to soothe her. Problem was, as much as he liked kids, he'd never been particularly talented at actually communicating with them.

"I want my mommy," she said through a sob.

"Yeah, I get that. You're name's, Amelia, right?" At her nod, Hansel continued, "Your parents told us, my sister and I, to come and bring you home. So, that's what I'm gonna do, okay?" Instead of responding she just sobs quietly, burying her face in his shirt.

"Hansel!" Gretel called as she ran up to him, covered in dirt and slime, carrying her crossbow.

"Hey," he greeted. "You check? She's _dead_ dead, right?"

"Yeah, we're good," she confirmed. "But next time you're the one who goes in the water."

He grinned slyly. "You did very well. I am so proud."

"Shut up," she scorns, before glancing at the bundle in his arms. "Is she alright?"

"Yeah, I think so. She needs to get warm, though. She's wet and her clothes were a lost cause. She'll catch a chill out here."

"Right," Gretel said, nodding her agreement. She helped him slip his and her satchels on his shoulder so he wouldn't have to put Amelia down. Slinging Hansel's gun across her back, she motions for him to move. "We can get back before nightfall if we hurry."

The journey through the forest was long, Hansel's pace slowed by both the girl and their supplies, but he didn't complain. He took careful steps to try and keep his jostling around to a minimum, Gretel following behind him, keeping speed. It was a nice comfort, knowing she always had his back, especially in instances like now when he's too distracted to watch it himself.

A long while after they had started walking, Amelia murmurs something that Hansel can't quite make out.

"What?" He clipped out sharply before remembering that his generally sarcastic nature was not at all helpful. "I can't hear you, Amy," he said, keeping his tone as gentle as he was able.

"What's your name?" She asked so softly that Hansel almost missed it again.

"I'm Hansel," he stammered clumsily, unprepared for the question. "The ugly one is my sister, Gretel." He didn't need to look to feel the glare she was giving him; the scent of his leather coat burning was evidence enough.

"It's nice to meet you, Amelia," Gretel said over Hansel's shoulder even though the girl isn't actually looking at either of them. It's when Amelia shifts in his arms that Hansel realizes the way he'd been carrying her couldn't be comfortable.

He adjusted his stance so that he's leaning more to the side, hefting her up so that one arm is under her knees and the other his supporting the small of her back, resting her head on his shoulder.

"That better?" He asks and she nods without opening her eyes.

The rest of the walk back was utterly silent, the only sounds to be heard being the leaves and branches underneath their boots and Amelia breathing softly in his ear.

They delivered the girl to her parents just as the sun touches the horizon. Hansel, feeling the exhaustion in his bones, goes through the motions of all the thanks and payment mechanically. The two siblings reached their room at the inn in a zombie like state. Hansel, beyond caring, stripped off his pants and folded up his coat to use as a pillow, plopped down on the floor and promptly passed out.

Hansel was just waking when someone knocks on the door. Growling in frustration, he rolls to his feet and stomps over and throws it open, his anger immediately fizzling out when he sees who's standing there.

Amelia's father was standing a bit stiffly, looking nervous, his daughter peeking around his legs.

"Uh," Hansel starts dumbly, at a complete loss for what the man's name actually was-that was always Gretel's thing, he wasn't a people person. "Hello, sir," he greeted instead.

The man doesn't reply, but rather says somewhat impatiently, "Come on then, Girlie. Say what'cha wanted ta say."

Ameilia slid around so that she was standing in front of Hansel, her head bowed down. "Hi," she said shyly. She looked completely different than she had the previous day. Her face was full of color, her blond hair was clean and brushed, wearing a pale green dress. It was kind of unfair how quickly children bounced back, though it did ease his mind a bit to see that the girl hadn't been in as bad a shape as he'd originally thought.

Kneeling so that he's at eye level with her, Hansel asks, "Hey there, kid. Feeling better?" She nods and just stands there, holding her hands behind her back.

"Thank you for saving me, Hansel," she says after the silence had stretched on for a few seconds.

Hansel huffs, laughing, "Wasn't any trouble. It's kind of what I do." Amy looked him in the eye before pushing something into his hands; a flower, small and yellow with smooth, round petals. She then rushed forward and threw her arms around his neck. He was so stunned that he didn't have time to respond before she pulled away and ran down the stairs without a word, her father running after her with a panicked tone.

He stays there for a moment, kneeling in the doorway, his mind trying to process what had just occurred. Eventually a smile spread across his face, big and happy and not at all in his usual character.

Hansel had kept the flower tucked behind his ear, wearing it proudly as a badge of honor, right up until it was so dry and shriveled that it fell apart in his hand. And the one time a witch had the audacity to mock him for wearing it? He stabbed her in the eye.

So, long story short; Hansel loves kids, and will royally fuck up anyone who even thinks about hurting one.


End file.
